


Fire and Water: A Kupala Fic

by ShoeUntied



Series: Fern Flower [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Breathplay, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Nikolai Plisetsky mention, Outside Sex, Possessive Talk, Side Victuuri, Smut, character death mentioned but no details, otayuri - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-01
Updated: 2017-07-01
Packaged: 2018-11-21 16:36:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11361339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShoeUntied/pseuds/ShoeUntied
Summary: It was all Katsuki’s idea. Victor knew that Yuri took a week off from training at the end of June each year, to spend time with his grandpa for his birthday.  But Nikolai had passed away last October and when Victor told his husband his concerns, that Yuri would be all alone, with no family, in Moscow, for a week, well Katsuki had devised this plan. For the four of them to go to Japan and make this week in June as fun as possible, in Nikolai’s memory.





	Fire and Water: A Kupala Fic

**Author's Note:**

> I was initially inspired when I learned of the ancient rituals of Kupala in this nsfw guest comic on Oh Joy Sex Toy [ http://www.ohjoysextoy.com/kupala-pannan/ ] by the wonderful PannaN [ http://pannan-art.tumblr.com ] along with the end credits of the show.  
> I listened to this song while writing [ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jEpHgMF4-3A ].
> 
> Many thanks to the delightful FrancoWitch for the beta work [ http://archiveofourown.org/users/Francowitch/pseuds/Francowitch ]
> 
> (Someone teach me how to do links!)

“A bonfire? On the beach? Could that be any more teen drama cliché?” Yuri almost dropped his teacup in disbelief. Was Katsudon going to make him sing Kumbaya too?

“I think it sounds fun,” Otabek interjected. Of course he would stick up for this dumb idea, the traitor. “Have you ever been to a beach bonfire Yuri?”

“Can’t say that I have consid-“

“Well it is fun,” Victor interrupted and gave Yuri a meaningful look. _Be nice._ Yuri was trying to be nicer, in general. And nicer to Katsuki in particular. This was all Katsuki’s idea after all. Victor knew that Yuri always took a week off from training at the end of June to spend time with his grandpa for his birthday. Nikolai had passed away last October and when Victor told his husband his concerns that Yuri would be all alone, with no family, in Moscow, for a week, well Yuuri had devised this plan. To make this week in June as fun as possible, in Nikolai’s memory. They had a small ceremony for Grandpa on Thursday. Now it was Sunday morning and Yuuri was still going strong with his Ultimate Plan, as he’d taken to calling it.

“…con-sidering that my three closest friends are at this table eating breakfast with me, I can’t say that I’ve ever been invited to a bonfire on the beach.” Yuri tried to give Yuuri a thankful smile but it felt more like a grimace. Well he was trying. “Will there be sparklers too?” In his head it was a sarcastic question—sparklers sounded even more childish than a bonfire—but he must have put a good enough spin on it that it sounded like a genuinely interested question.

“Oh, yes! I actually picked some up yesterday.” Yuuri beamed at him from across the onsen’s table, so glad that Yuri was on board.

“Yes!” Yuri kicked Otabek where his foot had been resting near his shin. “What?! I fuckin love sparklers!”

 

He was staring. He had to stop staring. But, God, Katsuki was so beautiful, just an objectively beautiful human being. Damn. Sharing a city with him, visiting his home at least once a week, sharing a rink and locker room. None of these things lessened the intensity of his beauty. And when he danced it was like The Creator herself was speaking to you, you couldn’t look away. Nobody could. The sparklers they had all been playing with and the fire Victor had proudly built only served to accentuate the beauty of his movements. Throwing him into high contrasts of light and shadows as he twisted and turned.

He must have felt the eyes on him because suddenly he stopped, out of breath and grinning like a fool. “What?” he asked looking at each of them fleetingly and landing on Victor. That’s when Yuri realized he hadn’t been the only one; all three stopped what they were doing to watch Yuuri dance with the utter joy of a child.

“I enjoy watching you dance, my Yuuri.” Victor sounded out of breath too, though he had stopped his revelry long enough to have caught his breath.

“You should dance with me, all of you. Get some more sparklers and let’s dance.”

“But there’s…no music.” Otabek was dumbfounded; Yuri could hear it in his voice.

Yuuri looked to Otabek, still grinning, as he grabbed Victor’s hands and pulled him into the dance. “Does it matter?” and the two spun away, fluidly taking turns leading.

The night had gotten into Yuuri’s blood, and Yuri felt it too. New Year’s Day felt arbitrary, never like a new beginning really. But the changing of seasons felt significant. Something ancient and eternal that you could see and feel. On the days of the equinoxes, and the nights of the solstices, Yuri always felt this odd connection to nature. Significance and insignificance in the same feeling. It was hard to pin down really, and it often made him itch just under his skin. But sometimes, like tonight, it made his blood sing. A feeling of celebration. He felt buzzed without having consumed a drop of alcohol.

The sparkler in his hand fizzled out and the threat of hot metal pulled Yuri out of his thoughts. He pulled his attention away from the dancing couple. Otabek handed him a sparkler, he had lit two more for them on the bonfire, grabbed his other hand and spun him in place. Though his body was conditioned to dance, he wasn’t used to spinning on sand and wobbled a bit. Otabek steadied him, holding him firm against his body. He stole a quick kiss then smiled at Yuri. “Come on,” and he was off towards the water, spinning whenever he leapt, his sparkler leaving a trail all the way down the beach to the water. Whether you called it the solstice, or Kupala, or Midsummer, there was certainly something special about tonight. Yuri took off running and turning circles after Otabek. He felt like dancing. 

 

After an immeasurable amount of time, the four of them dancing and leaping and turning circles around each other, one by one they drifted back to sit by the fire. By the time Yuuri made his way over to the fire Victor, Otabek, and Yuri were sitting together hip-to-hip. They were quietly watching the fire flicker and dance, consuming; occasionally one would speak to the others in hushed tones. Yuuri smiled wistfully at his little family. Victor put his arm around his shoulders as he sat on the sand beside him.

Yuri’s brain didn’t even consciously register the movements at first, when Katsuki began to stroke Victor’s hand on his shoulder. But when Victor began to trail his fingers along the top of his husband’s thigh, the movement pulled Yuri out of his partial hypnosis by the fire to glance past Otabek to the other two men. Otabek turned to look him in the eyes and the two shared a moment of silent decision. Yuri stood up first to walk away, leaping nimbly over the now smaller fire. When Otabek caught up to him, he took his hand and they walked down the beach, the fire still in sight but far enough away that the silhouette beside it could have been…anything.

As they wandered Yuri began to pick flowers along the vague line of demarcation between beach/not beach. Weeds mostly, but Yuri found the white dandelions enthralling in their contrast to the yellow he was used to seeing. When they reached a small compact mound where grasses and various weeds were trying to eke out a living in the sandy soil, Yuri turned and judged that they were far enough away to probably not hear anything they didn’t want to. Otabek sat beside him as he laid out his harvest of sorts.

“I had a dream a while back,” he began to braid the flowers he had found while he talked. Otabek hadn’t noticed when he had found morning glory vine, the occasional blue looked nice amidst the white, “about my parents. Well, not my actual parents but in my dream they were my parents, you know?”

Otabek made a hum of understanding. Things were different in dreams. Sometimes you just knew things that were true but they were only true within that dream.

“Anyway, my mom, my dream-mom, she was braiding flowers. Not these weeds here. She had these big colorful bunches of wildflowers that she had spent all day picking. And there she was, at sunset, making an over-sized wreath of wildflowers. And when it got dark she set it on the water. I don’t know if it was a river or a lake or if it was just a pond but in my dream I followed the flowers and right before it made it to land again my dad, my dream-dad, picked it up. He followed the direction the wreath had come, waded all the way back -- must have been a shallow lake, that or he was half-Jesus – he waded all the way across the water back to the girl it belonged to. And that’s how they fell in love. Weird, huh? I had a dream about how my parents got together but they weren’t actually my parents; and usually, you know, in my dreams it’s like first person point of view like when I’m awake. But this one was just kind of…observing. So strange-“ As he trailed off, not knowing how to end his story, he had a braid a little longer than his forearm. He took another piece of vine and wrapped the ends together. Not really knowing what to do with what he had made, he placed it on his head. It was just a bit too big.

After a moment of reflective silence, both of them watching the waves roll, Otabek asked “Could you teach me how to braid?”

Yuri turned to him aghast, one eyebrow raised. “You don’t know how to braid? You have a sister.”

“Older sister. I guess she never took the time to teach her annoying little brother how to braid.” He shrugged as Yuri stood up to gather some more flowers. Otabek put his hand out, “Pull me up.”

“Lazy oaf,” but he grinned at him as he took his hand and hauled him up.

Yuri showed Otabek where he had found the vines and they returned to their previous spot. Yuri explained the movements and once Otabek had a decent looking braid going they lapsed into a comfortable silence.

Otabek could feel Yuri’s thoughts turning to his grandfather. “You know, just because he’s gone doesn’t mean you don’t have any family. I love you, Yura, unconditionally.” He glanced in the direction of the fire then back down to the working of his hands. “And I think those two dorks love you just as much as I do, if in a different way.” He looked up to see Yuri close to tears. Putting his handy work aside, he took his face in his hands and kissed him squarely on the lips, trying to convey the depth of his love into his soft, pliant lips.

Most of the tension drained from Yuri by the time they parted. “I know. I really do. I just miss him…so much…every day still.” Otabek gathered him up to sit sideways on his lap, one hand stroking Yuri’s hair. “You know those jackets and hats I saved from when we cleaned out his house?” Otabek nodded against his shoulder. “Sometimes I’ll open my closet and I can still smell him on those things and it just makes me miss him more.”

“Sshh,” Otabek continued to stroke his hair, “I know my love, I miss him too.”

Otabek held him. Held on for dear life. He alternated stroking his hair with lightly scratching large ovals along his back. As moments passed Otabek felt the posture of his body change gradually as he let himself accept the comfort offered.

After another moment still, he fixed the wreath more securely on Yuri’s head and said, “Come with me down to the water? I’ve never been in open water at night and something about the dark ocean is calling to me. I want to go dip my feet in at the very least.”

Yuri looked to him and Otabek saw that he was as thankful for the change in subject as he was for the comfort. They stood and walked to the edge of the calm, small waves. 

The ocean was colder than Yuri remembered from earlier in the day and he huffed as his whole body prickled with it. Otabek was already a little further in, ankle-deep in the gentle waves. He turned and flung a foot toward Yuri in one surprisingly graceful movement, splashing Yuri with salt water. “What’s this? A Russian, cold!?”

Yuri wasted no time with a retort, opting instead to flick water in Otabek’s direction. It escalated quickly to a splash fight, each of them grabbing the other when he wobbled as the undertow made the sand beneath them unstable. Once they both wobbled and Yuri turned Otabek bodily where he had hold of his upper arms, not quite lifting him but making him light enough on his feet that it made the direction of his movement inarguable. When he had Otabek headed in the right direction, Yuri walked them out of the water and a few paces beyond. Both them were out of breath.

Otabek looked him up and down as well as one could when the object of your gaze is held close. “You got stronger,” was all he said before pulling Yuri into a hungry kiss.

_Fucking finally,_ Yuri thought. Finally they were here. They tended to get rusty in their months apart. They had video chatted every day in these last three months and it wasn’t rare for them to talk more than once in a day. Usually it was about their daily lives—venting their frustrations to the other, telling something funny that had happened. It occasionally turned intimate, the kind of conversations in which you know somebody more. But it seldom turned into explicit conversations.

When they were together in person again the physicality between them seemed unfamiliar. Sometimes taking days before they were comfortable enough to do more than hold hands or exchange chaste kisses. And then suddenly they turned a corner and they couldn’t keep their hands off each other. It was like the strike of a match and Yuri would hope each time that they could reach that point from their initial embrace and not waste so much time getting there, even though looking back he realized the time wasn’t actually a waste.

Yuri took the spark he was given and coaxed it into a fire. He grabbed Otabek’s glorious ass and ground their bodies together as he rubbed his lips along the new stubble on his neck. Otabek responded with a low moan but then tore away from Yuri and ran in the direction of the water. Yuri was too surprised to protest and watched as he rescued the wreath of weeds from the waves.

Otabek held the flowers out to him as he approached, “I didn’t want you to lose it. You spent time making it.”

Yuri took it from him and placed it on Otabek’s head. “I think it looks better on you.”

Otabek took his hand and lead him away towards the small knoll where they had sat together earlier, and then a little ways past that. There was a thick line of evergreens--not big enough to be called trees but too large to really be called bushes—that separated the beach from the slightly raised walkway beyond it. _Hedgerow_ his brain supplied helpfully but Yuri didn’t think that was quite right either.

Otabek sat with his back against the thick trunk of one of the evergreens and beckoned Yuri to his lap. “Shouldn’t you be in my lap?” Yuri asked petulantly as he settled his legs against Otabek’s ribs.

“And why’s that Yura?” Otabek crooned, sliding his hands under Yuri’s ass and shifting him closer.

“I’m taller than you now.”

“Hm-m,” a decisive hum which in Otabek meant ‘no way’ as he slid his hands under Yuri’s thin sweater along his back. “I like to feel your weight against me.”

Yuri ran his hands along his shoulders. He had always loved Otabek’s shoulders. Otabek licked a stripe up Yuri’s neck and kissed just under his earlobe. He knew this drove Yuri crazy. Yuri growled low in his throat and ran his hands up the back of his head to grab messy fistfuls of Otabek’s hair, the flower wreath fell unheeded. He pulled him away to look in his eyes and mutter “Fuck”—the word itself almost a moan—then attacked Otabek’s mouth with his own.

Otabek’s lips tasted of saltwater, his tongue tasted like marshmallows; and underneath these the distinct, familiar taste that was just…Otabek. Damn, how he had missed this. Yuri knew his kisses were frantic but he couldn’t help himself. Otabek slowed their kisses to something still passionate but sweeter. He slid his hands up Yuri’s back--taking his shirt with him and exposing Yuri’s back to the night air—until his hands reached the back of Yuri’s neck.

Yuri broke the kiss with a gasp, throwing his head back. “Do the thing, Beka.”

“Hmm? What’s that Yura?” Sweet and inquisitive, they both knew he knew exactly what Yuri was asking for. Otabek was teasing him, pulling him taut.

“The thing. You know I love it,” he was breathless with anticipation, somewhere between a growl and a whine.

Otabek removed his right hand from Yuri’s back and placed it lightly around his throat. “Is this what you want?” He emphasized his question with a single roll of his hips and a possessive pressure on Yuri’s back.

With a frustrated moan and a few frantic thrusts Yuri tried to convey to Otabek that he should get on with it already, “Fuckin do it Beka,” and to Otabek, a whine like that from Yuri was a good as a ‘please.’

Yuri stilled instantly when he felt the lightest of pressure on the sides of his throat. His eyes flew open. He locked eyes with Otabek . “Who do you belong to, Yuri?” the lack of a nickname insinuating the seriousness of the question.

“You. I belong to you.”

“And have you been with anyone else since we were together last?” He began to gradually increase the pressure.

“Just one. The one I told you about.”

“Mmm, and does that purple-haired beauty own you?”

A cheeky grin sprang to his lips. “She owned my ass for a hot minute.” The pressure increased sharply. He gasped with the pain and the pleasure of it. “No! You own me. I belong to you.”

Otabek hummed as if savoring the taste of it. He began to roll his hips into Yuri in a steady rhythm. “Say it again.” His breathlessness giving away just how worked up he was with their play. Yuri had no idea how he maintained his composure when he was quite clearly as wound up as he was.

“I belong to you,” slowly getting words out with how little air he was getting. The sound of it shocked Otabek into action. He removed his hand from his throat and grasped his ass with both hands to better facilitate the meeting of their hips.

“I need you to touch me right fucking now,” the rushed whisper told Yuri how close Otabek was. Yuri knew he was asking for his hands, but he knew he could do better than that. He loved having Otabek’s dick in his mouth and now that the opportunity had presented itself there was suddenly nothing in the world he wanted more.

Yuri scrambled out of Otabek’s lap. They adjusted their positions so that Otabek was laid out and leaning on his elbows to look down at Yuri kneeling between his legs. Yuri lifted his partner’s ass to pull down the waistband of his joggers. He licked his lips as Otabek’s dick sprang free. Otabek saw and wondered if Yuri was even aware that he’d done that. “Don’t tease, Mahabbatym, please.”

“Mmm, so polite,” and while Yuri’s tone was teasing he did heed Otabek’s request and slid his entire length in his mouth in one go. Well, what he could fit anyway. He grasped the base in one hand and worked his hand and mouth in tandem; let his spit slide down to slick everything.

Yuri had judged correctly when he guessed just how worked up Otabek was as a result of their earlier play. After hitting the back of Yuri’s throat only a few times, his body tensed and he spilled his load with a stuttering moan.

A dog barked only a short distance away on the walkway. The two scrambled to right themselves under the cover of the evergreens then held perfectly still, holding their breaths, their eyes blown wide with panic. Above and behind them they heard a man speak to his dog in Japanese as he walked past them. Yuri thought he recognized the word for ‘idiot.’ When they judged the man and his dog to be far enough they broke out in hushed giggles.

“Come on,” Otabek stood and offered his hand to Yuri, “let’s head back to the inn. I want to shower. I’m pretty sure I have sand in my crack.” He wiggled his ass to show his discomfort.

But Yuri was distracted by something amongst the trunks of the evergreens. “Huh. Look at that,” he pointed to a large beautiful flower.

“I didn’t think ferns bloomed. Why would it need a flower if it has spores?” Otabek took his phone from his pocket and took a picture. The flash almost blinded the both of them in the near darkness under the evergreens.

When they reached the fire once more they saw that Yuuri and Victor were gone, most likely back to Yuuri’s bed at the inn. Yuri smothered the embers with sand. “Let’s get back too. I’ll run up to the room and meet you in the showers. We’ll clean off the sand and then,” he grabbed Otabek from behind and rubbed his neglected cock against him, “I am going to wreck that glorious ass.”

**Author's Note:**

> Mahabbatym -> my love  
> This my first fic for the Yuri on Ice fandom. All comments and critiques are welcome.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Otayuri - a Kupala inspired art](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13226418) by [thisiseclair](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisiseclair/pseuds/thisiseclair)




End file.
